


The Elevator

by hava_hp



Category: ATEEZ (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mentions Of Corona, Tipsy Jimin, Trapped In Elevator, tipsy wooyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hava_hp/pseuds/hava_hp
Summary: Park Jimin used to keep track of all the idols who openly admired him. He used to send them discreet messages of individual praise for their skills, or would even take a trip to a music show dressing room just to thank them for looking up to him. He hasn’t been paying attention these days, until the moment he and Jung Wooyoung of rookie group ATEEZ are both stuck in a broken elevator.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Park Jimin (BTS)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 101





	The Elevator

“Come on, I’m not going to tell you again, Jimin.” The words felt like sandpaper against his brain as Jimin sighed. He lifted his head gingerly off the edge of the couch, the unmistakable white of Taehyung’s apartment filling his eyes to the brim and then some as he opened them.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, hand immediately rubbing at his temples.

Sejin sighed like a disappointed father as he crossed to the other side of the living room. He returned a few moments later with a tall glass of some ice cold clear liquid (that every atom of Jimin suddenly felt desperate for), and a few white pills.

“Did you forget about the shoot today?” Sejin continued to speak. Jimin didn’t say anything for several moments, hoisting himself back up to a sitting position in his clothes from yesterday as he snatched the water and pills from his manager’s hands.

“It’s not until the evening.” Jimin grumbled, gulping down what was offered.

“It’s three o’clock.” Sejin said, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Jimin could only blink in response. Another figure appeared behind Sejin’s back. Taehyung’s hair was styled messily, as if he had just gotten out of bed not long beforehand as well. But the lack of a pained expression and stylish baggy outfit he was wearing illustrated the stark difference in their conditions.

_ “Tae-tae!”  _ Jimin whined. “Why didn’t you get us up earlier?”

“You didn’t wanna wake up.” Taehyung pouted from behind the gargantuan man between them. “And you’re the one who insisted on adding that vodka to the mix last night.”

“No, that was you!”

“I don’t even drink!”

“You set me up!”

“Get up, Jimin.” Sejin interrupted the pair. “And get moving.”

That was the end of that. Jimin stood, and gave Taehyung a small shove as he passed on the way to the guest bathroom. Well, attempted to. Taehyung dodged easily, laughing as Jimin swung dangerously to one side before his dancers feet righted his centre of gravity again.

One hazy shower and iced americano later and Jimin and Taehyung were in Sejin’s car, watching the buildings of Gangnam wizz past in the afternoon light. Jimin had been landed with one of the back seats, lacking both the physical and emotional energy to fight Taehyung over the front passenger’s side. Taehyung and the manager spoke about the sponsorship BTS were responsible for shooting for that night, and Jimin largely tuned them out for the majority of the ride.

“Mask.” Sejin announced towards the end of the ride to the studio, throwing a black KF94 towards his face without a spare glance away from the road. Jimin put the thing on with a sigh, half-tempted to pull it up over his eyes and go back to sleep right then and there.

But as the minutes wore on, both the hangover pills and the dancer’s youthful metabolism kicked into gear, and it was an only slightly lethargic Jimin that exited the car. What met the man was a flood of trees and grass at all sides, a view utterly incompatible with Seoul.

“Where are we?” He asked as he and his friend followed Sejin out of the small car park to a small building, concrete and several stories high.

“A lot of studios in Seoul are booked out or shut because of COVID.” Sejin supplied. The pair of 95ers met eyes, their tight masks an ever-present reminder of the current situation. “But this one’s still operating, with social distancing and all, mind you. There’s one other shoot scheduled here today other than us, but they’re on opposite sides of the building. They’re also another kpop group, professional so they’ll keep to themselves, I’m sure.”

“Oooh? Who is it?” Taehyung asked, ever the curious one. The man bounced on his heels slightly behind Sejin at the news, like an overgrown puppy.

“Ateez.” Sejin shrugged as his phone rang at his side. He paused up the footpath to the remote studio (Jimin absent-mindedly wondered if its true purpose was weddings or countryside shoots) to pick up a ringing phone in his pocket.

“Hello? Namjoon?” He said. A familiar voice said something inaudible through the phone speaker. “Yeah, we’re here, now.  _ Someone _ got into the vodka last night, so…”

Jimin pouted, cheeks going wide as he scuffed his foot slightly against a spot of pavement. Namjoon’s garbled voice sounded through the phone again before Sejin replied.

“He’s fine. Just tell the makeup artists to get started. We’ll be up in a moment.”

“I don’t know anyone in Ateez.” Taehyung said as they entered the front doors of the studio. They were met with a graceful foyer filled with natural wood tones, and the bustle of several studio employees as they made their way through the space. Most of them froze upon seeing Jimin and Taehyung, and had varying levels of tact as the pair followed their manager through a small side door. Inside was an unassuming space, the wood tones from the foyer being replaced by a cool concrete on the walls and floor. A small elevator door was the main feature, with another door a few meters away clearly marking a stairwell.

“Too many people to keep track of, these days.” Jimin said. Taehyung nodded.

“I bet Yoongi hyung knows though. That little gossip.” The taller member said, and Jimin snorted.

“We’re on the seventh floor.” Sejin informed them. He pressed the button on the elevator door before turning and moving towards the stairwell.

“Wait, where are you going?” Taehyung questioned. At that moment, another figure burst through into the room. Jimin gave the new occupant a sideways glance. It was a young-looking man, dressed in all black. His dark hair was long and pinned up by a small ponytail. Attractive arm muscles bulged ever-so slightly from the pack of several water bottles weighing them down. His face was masked, as was everybodys, and he didn’t seem to pay any of them much regard as his face turned downwards, clearly waiting for the elevator also.

“I’m getting my steps in.” Was all Sejin said as he opened the stairwell door. Natural light from large windows in the stairwell flooded in as he crossed the threshold of the door. “Did you want to join?”

“No way.” The words left Jimin’s mouth without needing any extra care or thought, but Taehyung bounced up, following the manager through the door with an eager nod.

The elevator dinged, and Jimin found himself alone with the silent man as they entered. He was suddenly glad that his friend and large manager had decided to take the stairs, it would have been an uncomfortable fit had they all entered.

He pressed the seventh floor button once inside, and the other man pressed the third. Jimin let himself have another curious look at him as he did. The elevator walls offered only a grey metallic wash, the other person’s skin offering the only source of colour in the cramped space. He was struck by dark, soft eyes and strong brows above a white mask. He realised then that the other man was very handsome, but also very young.

_ Ateez,  _ he thought. Had he entered a lift with another idol? The handsome man pressed himself against the opposite wall as the lift began its ascent, seemingly trying his best to avoid Jimin at all costs.

“Hey.” Jimin began. The man’s eyes widened as he turned to make eye contact.

“I’m Jimin.” Jimin said, grateful for the mask covering the majority of his face as he was sure it was going red by the way the other was looking at him. The man’s bare arm muscles tensed, gripping the bottles tighter. Jimin felt the elevator shudder slightly, and wondered how long the thing would take to get to even the third floor.

“Do you… need any help with that?” Jimin found himself asking, gesturing towards the bottles. He counted twelve. The other man shook his head quickly, somehow shying even more towards the wall behind him as if he wanted to become one with it.

“What’s your name?” Jimin tried again, but he suddenly felt somewhat bad as the words left his lips. The other was clearly uncomfortable by his presence. Shocked eyes met his once more. Jimin thought the other man might have been about to speak but suddenly the BTS member’s eyes saw only black.

A sharp intake of breath sounded from the other side of the tiny elevator as the lift suddenly stuttered to a halt. Dim, yellow tinted lighting pulsed on at their heads, casting shadows in the tight space. Jimin reached towards the lift’s buttons again, pressing the seven. No movement, no lights, no reassuring  _ ding.  _ He tried a few more buttons, each one about as helpful as the last. After a few moments of frustrating (and slightly terrifying) silence, a loud noise crackled through the voicebox on the button panel.

Both Jimin and the stranger flinched like kittens at the noise.

“Hello?” Came the scratchy voice of an ahjussi. Jimin pressed down on the button next to the voicebox.

“Hello, sir.” He said politely. “The elevator has stopped.”

“Yes, there has been a malfunction.” The ahjussi stated obviously. The white masked man (boy?) had slowly slid to the back wall of the elevator, back hitting it with a low thud as he watched Jimin with large eyes.

“We will get you out of there momentarily. We will get back to you soon.” The voice box buzzed back to them, before there was silence. Jimin let out a groan, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

No bars. Of course.

“Great.” He sighed.

The boy behind him shifted, placing down the twelve water bottles before sitting down beside them. Jimin turned to regard him.

“So are you in Ateez?” He asked. The boy coughed, hand going up to almost press instinctively on his face before he seemingly remembered his mask in the way.

“Y-Yeah.” He said, voice tiny.

Jimin felt a pang in his chest that felt suspiciously like guilt. He used to take it upon himself to be kind to everyone, especially rookies. In the last few years, his attention had slipped some from new groups as BTS focused more on visiting America, and he found himself slightly embarrassed come music and award shows to not quite remember the names of every new idol group to come out. Perhaps, he thought, if the boy before him took his mask off, he would recognise him from some performance or passing nod backstage at an award show, but he was coming up utterly short in the meantime.

Jimin stood awkwardly as the other once more maintained eye contact avoidance for several long moments.

“So…” Jimin stuttered in the silence. He couldn’t help it. It was not in his nature to just sit and be  _ quiet. _ Just that moment, another crackle echoed through the elevator. The Ateez member practically launched himself off the floor towards the panel. His side brushed against Jimin slightly before the elder could move out of the way, but the stranger didn’t appear to notice it as he pressed the call button.

“Are you letting us out now, sir?” A soft, honey voice came out of the boy. Another brief crackle came out before a response.

“We are very sorry, Jimin-ssi and Wooyoung-ssi.” A new voice, another man, came. “The elevator has malfunctioned in a way that our on-site electrician does not have the capabilities to fix. We will need to wait for another coming out from Seoul. They have been dispatched immediately.”

“How long will it take?” Desperation edged into the sweet voice.

“There was an accident on the highway.” Came the monotoned man. “That, combined with the evening rush, and the repairs, we are looking at potentially an hour, likely longer. Again, we are very sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Y-You can’t just open the doors and get us out?” The boy asked desperately.

“We are very sorry, sir. The inner elevator doors are not responding to even manual attempts on the other side. We are not sure what the problem is now but we have every reassurance that the incoming electrician will solve the problem.”

Jimin’s eyes practically bogged out of his head at the words. The boy did not cope with the news any better. He took a step back from the panel, before backing towards the wall again, sliding down it in defeat.

“A side effect of the malfunction has also caused the elevator camera to stop working.” The man continued. “Jimin-ssi, Wooyoung-ssi, are you both alright?”

Jimin pressed the call button. “We’re fine, sir. Thank you. We’ll be alright.”

The man let out another apology, and with that, there was only them. Alone.

With not even wifi as a distraction.

“So you’re name’s Wooyoung?” Jimin tried lamely, settling down on the floor opposite his hoobae. Wooyoung nodded stiffly, hands fumbling on his lap.

“How old are you?” Jimin asked.

Wooyoung seemed to struggle for a bit. “I was born in 1999.” He seemed to choke out, as if out of breath.

Jimin watched the boy before him. Because he really was a boy. Anyone younger than Jimin’s little brother was a cutie, in his eyes. Also, Jungkook. If you were younger than Jungkook than you were a baby. Wooyoung from Ateez’s eyes darted around the small space, zipping back and forth quickly as his breathing continued accelerating in pace.

Had Jimin not been so experienced in the realm of stage anxiety, he might not have caught on quite so quickly. By the time Wooyoung had gripped the side of his mask, Jimin was already speaking.

“Just take the mask off if you want to, it’s okay.” He said. They locked eyes at that moment, and Wooyoung shook his head.

“Corona.” He only said. Jimin tutted.

“Neither of us have corona. Probably. And I’ll keep mine on, okay?”

Wooyoung still shook his head tightly, the sound of his breathing surrounding Jimin soon enough given how tight the space was. The beginnings of an uncomfortable pit had formed in Jimin’s stomach as well at their situation, but he was clearly the one better-equipped to deal with it at that moment.

“W-What’s going on?” Wooyoung panted, body tense as his head slumped against the metal wall behind him. “I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

The poor boy looked miserable, face scrunching up behind the mask as his eyes grew glassy.

Jimin frowned, the pit in his stomach filling up with a touch of sadness and pity at the boy’s predicament. His fingers itched at his sides, wanting to approach the stranger. Taehyung always felt better being cuddled if he got like this, and Jimin wanted this sweet-seeming kid in his arms right then and there, for some reason.

But Jin hyung would push away someone who got close to him when he was feeling vulnerable, and Jimin knew close contact wasn’t the sort of thing one initiated on someone unless you knew it was something they wanted.

“Try to breathe.” He said, feeling somewhat useless. He lowered his mask to below his chin.

“Breathe with me, ready?” He said, taking in a slow, deep breath. He let the air inflate his diaphragm, showing a clear example to the other. Wooyoung watched him for a few moments before pulling his mask off entirely, the thing falling into his lap as his face was revealed properly for the first time.

He let in a shaky, shallow breath. But it was deeper than the ones previous.

“Good.” Jimin said. “Now let’s let it out. Three, two, one…”

And on a cool, cramped elevator floor Jimin sat, hungover on a Wednesday afternoon, schooling an idol hoobae out of a panic attack.

“You’re doing really well.” Jimin reassured after a time. The boy perked up a bit, breaths more even now.

“T-Thank you.” He stuttered, arm travelling to lean onto the bottles of water at his side.

“And hey, at least you got those to keep us hydrated.” Jimin half-joked.

“Do you want one?” Wooyoung asked, voice small. He ripped into the plastic outer packaging and held one out hesitantly, a second one for himself in his other hand.

“Thanks!” Jimin grinned. The boy stared blankly as Jimin accepted the bottle, fingers brushing against Wooyoung’s as he did.

Now that Jimin could see his face, he was relieved to see that he did recognise the boy.

“Oh, I know you.” He said as he opened the bottle. Wooyoung blinked.

“Really?” He asked, still sounding out of breath, though the worst seemed to be over.

Taehyung liked it when he made small talk when he was coming out of a panic attack, and Jimin hoped he was doing the right thing here.

“Yeah.” He continued. “At MAMA, your group did a cover of our song, right? I never got to speak to you guys about it… sorry…”

“No!” Wooyoung cut in immediately. “It’s okay! I bet y-you’re really busy, sunbaenim, a-and Hongjoong hyung told me that RM sunbaenim spoke to him backstage and s-said we did a good job.”

Wooyoung took that moment to stop speaking, although it was the most Jimin had heard from him thus far. The boy took a large swig of his water. His voice sounded nice to Jimin’s ears, higher-pitched, and lovely. A stray trickle of water escaped one corner of Wooyoung’s plush lips, and Jimin watched as the boy used the back of his hand to wipe it off. He had two piercings in each ear, made obvious by the small ponytail lifting sections of his hair out of the way. Messy strands draped over his face, making him look very pretty in the yellow glow of the elevator lights.

Jimin cursed himself slightly. He hadn’t had dick since before the pandemic, and now here he was, thirsting over an infant that had just finished up on a claustrophobia-induced panic attack. Jimin pouted at the thought, bottom lip jutting out in a way people that knew him were all too familiar with.

Wooyoung coughed again.

“S-Sorry!” He said, hands fumbling for his mask.

“Oh no, seriously, come on.” Jimin interrupted, causing Wooyoung to freeze. Jimin patted down one side of his pants, letting out an ‘aha!’ as he felt something hard in a side pocket.

He tugged out a small metal flask.

“I swear I’m not an alcoholic. This is last night’s leftovers.” He explained, twisting the lid. “But we’re gonna be here for a while, I can’t go on like this.”

“S-Sunbaenim…” Wooyoung whispered in shock as Jimin took his first swig.

“Oh, sorry! Did you want some?” Jimin offered the flask out. Wooyoung looked between the flask and Jimin several times.

“But only if you’re twenty. I’ll have to trust you, I’m really bad at maths.”

Jimin was expecting the boy to retract a little further into the corner of the elevator at those words. Then, he would continue to drink a bit more, relax a bit, and hopefully make the boy feel slightly less awkward with tipsy-Jimin jokes. But that was not what happened.

Wooyoung pulled himself out of his self-assigned wall, grabbing the flask and practically yanking it out of Jimin’s hands. Jimin gave a surprised giggle at the other’s eagerness, and watched happily as Wooyung took a swig. His bare, pale throat was exposed as he did so, and Jimin had to swallow a lump in his own at the sight.

Curse his horny ass. He really needed a dick appointment after this. Maybe that actor from last time…

“Calm down, cowboy.” Jimin said as Wooyoung swallowed a fair portion of his precious flask.

The boy let out a sharp intake of breath as the spirit went down his throat, face scrunching up. He took another mouthful of the water at his side to wash it down, clearly unused to the poison.

“Why do you have so much water with you, anyway?” Jimin asked, just then realising how odd it all was.

“Hyungs were thirsty, but we already finished all the water in our dressing room.” Wooyoung stated, head going back to the wall. He uncrossed his legs, raising his knees up to sit with his forearms on them. From this angle, Jimin could see the way his tight jeans hugged his thighs, a hint of muscle tone visible.

“So you were going to bring it up yourself?” Jimin asked.

Wooyoung shrugged. “My shoot and the group shoots were already finished up. Manager was tired, I could tell. We were just waiting on a few members to finish up, sunbaenim.”

“We’re stuck in an elevator, worked through a panic attack together, and now we’re sharing a flask.” Jimin deadpanned. “You can call me Jimin hyung now. If you want to.”

A red flush began to travel through Wooyoung’s face and down his collarbones, which were exposed by his loose shirt and sitting position. Jimin pointedly did  _ not _ look at that.

“Really?” He squeaked. Jimin nodded.

“Yeah.” He said, shifting his body to lounge across from Wooyoungs, one arm lifted up to hold his head. “I regret not hanging out more with younger artists, anyways. You’re all so cute.”

The blush on Wooyoung’s face and neck practically glowed at those words, and he attempted to hide it by shifting his head to make the loose strands of hair cover more of his face. It, adorably, didn’t work.

“You do spend time with hoobaes.” Wooyoung said, as if attempting to reassure the other. “Yeonjun told me you talk on kakao a lot.”

“You know Yeonjun?” Jimin felt like a moron for the question, he really was so out of touch.

“Yeonjun is my best friend.” Wooyoung said, placing the water bottle on the floor.

“Oh.” Jimin said. “But well… he’s in Big Hit, right? It’s practically a given. I… I wish I could do more.”

“Do more?” Wooyoung said, confusion dotting his face.

Jimin sighed, turning onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

“When BTS were rookies, we didn’t really have anybody. No sunbaes that were active in the industry to ask questions and get life advice from, that sorta thing. Don’t get me wrong, it was fine, and we always had friends. But we didn’t have like… real sunbaes, you know?”

Wooyoung nodded, considering his words.

“And when TXT debuted we really wanted to like, help support them. But I never got to speak to any other younger idols.”

“You’re busy.” Wooyoung reassured.

Jimin shook his head, swatting up at the air as if to physically reject the statement. “We had senior idols that we looked up to and admired, and they wouldn’t have anything to do with us because we weren’t from a big label or popular.”

It was with those words he sat up, looking Wooyoung right in the face. He realised belatedly that Wooyoung had really flawless skin, even beneath the makeup. He wondered briefly how crappy he himself must look at the current moment, with slightly damp shower hair, no makeup, and possibly still dehydrated from the night before. He wondered what Wooyoung was thinking as the other man’s eyes seemed to travel up and down Jimin’s face, taking him in. Jimin realised he had leaned in quite a bit closer, and he could make out the soft sparkles of barely-there eyeshadow on the other’s eyelids.

“I don’t want others to feel that way.” Jimin finished, moving to sit back on his heels.

“You’re really pretty.” The words took a while to register. But they were definitely from Wooyoung, directed towards him. The flush had not left Wooyoung’s face since it arrived, and that paired with the slightly hazy look in his eyes signalled to Jimin that the other was perhaps even more of a lightweight than Hoseok hyung.

“You’re one to talk.” Jimin said back, feeling braver than he probably ought to.

“I’ve always looked up to you.” Wooyoung said, eyes going wide.

“Thank you.” Jimin said on reflex.

“No. No, you don’t understand.” Wooyoung tried to continue.

“I get it, I’m cute and popular.” Jimin made grabby hands, motioning to the other’s lap and completely unaware anything was amiss.

“Tell me your kakao. I can save it later when we get out of here.” Wooyoung looked at him like had had grown another head, but still stiffly gave out a username. Jimin diligently saved it to his notes app.

“Oh damn, it’s only been twenty minutes.” The elder remarked as he pressed the lock button on his phone. “Do you happen to have any drama episodes saved to your phone or something? Shit, I’d even go for a backseat driver position on a crappy app right now.”

“I have unlimited data on my phone, so I never bothered to…” Wooyoung trailed off.

“Damn, me too. We really flew too close to the sun on this one.” Jimin sighed, moving to unlock his phone again. The soft beats of a random “top 100” playlist began, filling up the elevator with the sounds of some Western artist.

The pair were silent for a time, letting the music wash over them as Jimin continued sipping from the flask, with a stray curious loan from Wooyoung every now and again. Gradually, the edges of his vision blurred as Jimin’s chest felt lighter and lighter.

“Sure you don’t want some more?” He said, brandishing the metal thing, the last dregs of the spirit swishing at the bottom.

“I think I already had too’uch the last time…” Wooyoung slurred, properly affected. “Damn, I’m so glad my shoot’s finished.”

“I hope mine’s cancelled or manager Sejin’s gonna be’so annoyed. Oh my god, Namjoon hyung too.” Jimin said, eyes going wide at the thought.

He still swallowed the last of the flask regardless, throwing caution to the wind.

“Where are you from, Wooyoung-ah?”

“Me?” Wooyoung asked, pointing to himself as if confused.

“How many other Wooyoungs are here right now?”

Wooyoung cocked his adorable head to the side, as if mulling the words over.

“True.” He said. “I’m from Ilsan.”

“Gyeonggi-do Ilsan?”

Wooyoung nodded, letting out a soft noise of affirmation.

“Same as my Namjoon hyung. I’m from Busan.”

Just then, the music switched gears, a familiar opening line beginning.

“Wait, this is your song!” Wooyoung announced. “What playlist is this?”

Jimin shrugged, shifting his weight slightly back to the side to face the other fully.

“Man, it’s been a while since I heard this one.” He said. He moved slightly stiff legs, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

“Wait, wait.” Jimin only said, before extending his body outwards in a signature pose. He let himself get into the music, letting RM’s iconic raps and Jungkook’s melodious voice playing through his speaker take control of his body. Before long, he was dancing through the chorus of the choreography to the other man. For a moment, one wouldn’t suspect Jimin had drunken anything untoward, with the way his dancer’s body transitioned gracefully from one beat to the next. It was with the end of the chorus and J-Hope’s bars chiming in that he leaned against the side of the elevator, letting in a deep breath and grinning.

“Wow.” Wooyoung only said, bottom lip resting a few centimeters below where it normally would. “That was really cool, sunbaenim.”

“Hyung.” Jimin reminded.

Wooyoung shook his head a few times, but he let out a quick “okay.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed with mischief as he picked up his phone off the floor.

“Hey rookie,” he began. Wooyoung’s eyes widened (a common look on him, at least in this elevator anyway) as Jimin began shuffling through his phone. “Let’s see what you can do, yeah?”

_ Have something, have something… _

Jimin couldn’t help it. He was curious.

He felt the thrill of victory when he opened his third pre-downloaded generic ‘current kpop hits’ playlist and found a song under Ateez. The song opened, beats strong and powerful.

“Wait, what?” Wooyoung blanched.

“Dance for me.” Jimin giggled. “Come on, I did one for you.”

“Should we really be dancing in a broken elevator, h-hy-yung?” Wooyoung stuttered, but he immediately pulled himself off the floor into a stiff stance.

Jimin shrugged. He hadn’t considered that.

“Just don’t do any backflips and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

The beat grew louder, making way for the chorus. Jimin let out a few more words of encouragement, and it was with those (or maybe the alcohol) that got Wooyoung’s body moving. Within a few moments, it was as if the boy had decided he wanted to prove something, and by the end of the first half of the song Jimin was mesmerised.

Wooyoung moved with all the grace of a dancer in his prime, body sharp angles and smooth lines in all the right places. Even his expression, one of a seemingly permanent deer-in-headlights look, changed to one of hard determination and strength over the course of the dance. Jimin let out an impressed whistle as a second, deep-voiced rapper began his verse, and paused the song.

“That was cool, Wooyoung-ah!” He praised, slapping the younger slightly on the side. Wooyung gave him a proud smile, stars in his eyes. “You should teach me!”

“Teach you?” Wooyoung asked with surprise.

“Yeah, show me a few more times and I’ll see if I can copy it.”

And with that, the song played several more times, each time stopping when the second rapper began. Jimin found himself giggling through the first verse and the bridge as Wooyoung improvised some movements before getting serious at the chorus. Jimin paid close attention to each movement, telling himself it was simply academic as he watched Wooyoung’s toned body move to the beat. After a while, his tipsy self was attempting to copy.

Predictably, it didn’t go too well.

“Oh no, hyung!” Wooyoung shouted as Jimin stumbled his way through, a particular piece of footwork causing him to stumble. The tight space meant that he had no choice but to collide with Wooyoung on the way down. The younger let out a yelp as Jimin landed right on top of him, thighs straddling him.

“S-Sorry.” Jimin giggled. A distant part of his brain registered that they had gotten  _ very _ close all of a sudden. He knew the music was still playing from his phone, but the world went quiet for a few moments anyway.

Wooyoung was  _ pretty.  _ And warm underneath him.

Wooyoung didn’t say anything as they met eyes. No disgusted or annoyed noises, not even any mouse-like squeak. The only noise was a heavy intake of breath through lips that looked so soft. Brown eyes dilated, and the beautiful blush around his neck and cheeks highlighted him so wonderfully. Hands suddenly gripped at Jimin’s sides. They were stronger than they had any right to be, and they didn’t push away.

The last five per cent of Jimin’s sober brain was completely shut off the moment they locked lips.

For a few seconds, they simply stayed there, both waiting for the other to take the lead, or back away screaming. When Jimin concluded that Wooyoung wasn’t going to push him away, he tilted his head slightly, mouth travelling down to tug on a bottom lip. A sharp breath hit his face, and he felt distantly proud to have gotten the other off-kilter.

Hands travelled up to grip into his locks as Jimin teased Wooyoung with a lick of a tongue at his lips. Soon they were breathless, and by the time Jimin came up for a breather Wooyoung’s lips were noticeably kiss-swollen. Jimin doubted he fared much better if all the hair-pulling was anything to go by.

“Oh… oh… oh my god…’ Wooyoung stared up at the ceiling looking like he had met his lord. Jimin laughed, chest puffing up with pride.

“Thanks. I thrive on positive feedback so if you think of any more compliments send them my way.”

Wooyoung blinked, eyes travelling back to Jimin. He appeared to realise something then, covering his pretty blush with both hands as he groaned. Jimin frowned, getting the signal to hop off the man.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, sitting off to one side. “I’m sorry. I thought you liked it, so I kept going.”

“No, no it’s not that.” Wooyoung choked out.

“Then what?” Jimin’s frown morphed into a pout. “Am I not cute enough? Or - oh my god, am I too old? Am I an adjussi already?”

He meant it to be teasing, but with the way Wooyoung flinched Jimin was concerned he had taken it literally.

“No!” Wooyoung burst out. “It’s just… it’s just…”

“Sexuality crisis?” Jimin pressed on, watching the other’s facial expressions shift from one side of the spectrum to the other. “You know, there’s lots of people in the industry that are into this kinda thing. There’s nothing wrong with it. And we have this whole mutually-assured destruction thing going on that’s worked well so far to keep secrets, so-”

“Wait,  _ what?” _ Wooyoung interrupted, sitting up and looking at Jimin with a shocked face.

Jimin shrugged. “What, you’ve never made out with someone hot before that’s in the industry?”

Wooyoung looked increasingly bewildered. For some reason, his eyes suddenly took on a slightly glassy appearance, and Jimin felt suddenly as if he had missed out on a key piece of some puzzle he didn’t realise he was supposed to be solving.

_ Wooyoung is spooked, _ he concluded. And he didn’t like the look on that precious face.

“You don’t need to be afraid.” He said, inching closer again to the other boy. Wooyoung didn’t move, only watched Jimin with that same odd little expression as Jimin pressed a soft hand to his thigh.

Wooyoung’s lips parted, and then it was Jimin’s turn to be caught off-guard.

Wooyoung’s lips met his slightly aggressively, teeth clacking against his for a moment before a tongue pushed its way into his mouth. Jimin moaned in surprise as his eyes closed instinctively, hand tightening its grip on Wooyoung’s thigh. Wooyoung’s arms grasped Jimin’s sides again, hard and steady, and Jimin concluded quickly that the boy was the touchy type.

He liked that.

Jimin pushed his lips away from Wooyoung’s soon enough, trailing gently down the other’s neck, a place he’d been thinking about too much lately to resist touching. Wooyoung shuddered soundlessly against him as his lips pressed down on each point, a brief touch of tongue accenting his technique as he made his way down to a collarbone.

Every movement of Wooyoung’s hands felt electric on Jimin’s body, and the boy responded so well to every touch of Jimin’s lips. They were like two overcharged batteries, ready to burst at any moment and set fire to everything in their wake.

It was a long time before they finally separated again, and Wooyoung looked utterly ravaged by the end of it. Not marked (Jimin was a gentleman who knew the expectations of idols, after all), but breathless. Jimin’s hand stayed on his thigh as they both caught their breaths. Jimin didn’t stop smiling the entire time, the unique euphoria of sharing such a moment filling every cell in his body up with happiness.

And, for some places, a bit of tightness.

It was with that that he remembered where he was, and he knew then that they really ought to stop before things got out of hand.

“We… we need to stop.” Wooyoung said.

“You read my mind.” Jimin nodded, glancing down at his own pants.

Wooyoung followed his gaze, and spluttered.

“N-No… I mean…” he stumbled over his words. Boy, he sure did a lot of that.

Jimin wondered how stuttery he could make the boy. He wondered what other sounds inside existed that he could extract.

_ No. Bad Jimin. Naughty Jimin. Not in the elevator, Jimin, for god’s sake. _

“This is so wrong, I’m sorry.” Wooyoung said. Jimin regarded his words, before his brain decided the correct emotion to land on was confusion.

Over the course of their, ehm,  _ passing the time, _ the alcohol had seeped out of Jimin’s brain a bit. By the look of Wooyoung’s now serious face, he was in a similar predicament.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked gingerly.

“I can’t.” Wooyoung shook his head, a cringe surfacing on his lips. Jimin frowned. He didn’t like that.

“Well, that’s okay.” He reassured. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why so? Is it… is it something I did?”

Wooyoung shook his head almost violently from side-to-side.

“No, sunbaenim!” He cried. “Nothing like that!”

“Oh no.” Jimin said, crestfallen (and possibly a little dramatic). “We’ve regressed back to sunbaenim. Was it my tongue technique? I got negative feedback once, but in my defence I was way more sloshed that night-”

“You’re my idol, Jimin sunbaenim!” Wooyoung interrupted loudly, hands scrunching up at his sides.

“I’m your what now?”

“I’m, like, a big army!” Wooyoung grumbled. But he wasn’t finished.

“I sat next to J-Hope at the MAMAs for like two minutes and cried about it when I got back to our dorms. I look at video compilations of you dancing on youtube. I watched reaction videos of you watching our stage for like a week straight and screamed for like an hour on the phone to my mum about it.”

“What…” Jimin said, breathless.

“And it’s  _ wrong!”  _ Wooyoung continued. “I’ve had a big, legit gay crush on you for years! And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so I didn’t tell you but then I got so stressed about it I had a panic attack and then you were so  _ nice _ and you offered me alcohol and I got all excited about you giving me something so I took it and now I tricked you into kissing me and I’m gross and-”

“Wait a minute. Stop.” Jimin dropped his hand off the other’s thigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. “You’re a fan of me?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung exclaimed, shifting his body in order to hide his face against his knees.

“Oh…  _ oh my god…” _ Jimin said with wide eyes. “So… so you… you look up to me?”

Wooyoung didn’t reply, having committed to his head being where it was. But Jimin understood the implications of the silence.

“I’m so sorry.” Wooyoung looked up with confusion when the words left Jimin’s mouth. His hair was mussed up some, more strands beginning to slip out of the ponytail and covering the sides of his face. Soft eyes gazed at Jimin through a thin curtain of dark hair.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Wooyoung questioned, genuinely confused.

“I’m the one who got all up close with you!” Jimin said, shoulders slumping. “I never would have done that if-if I knew! Man I’m so creepy. This is so wrong.”

Wooyoung’s face fell, and for a moment Jimin worried if he was about to start crying. Jimin’s chest grew cold, and his lungs constricted at the thought.

“But it’s not you!” He continued quickly, one hand reaching halfway out to Wooyoung, an instinct to comfort frozen in its place by social convention.

“I took advantage of you!” Jimin exclaimed. “I manipulated your feelings and-”

“No you didn’t! I manipulated yours!” Wooyoung interrupted, edging closer to Jimin with a shocked face at Jimin’s words. “You had no idea I felt that way!”

“But I should have.” Jimin didn’t relent. “I  _ should _ have known. I should have already known who you are, you’re super talented and your group is actually really cool and well-respected and I didn’t even recognise you at first! I should have found out, and sent you letters and tried to make friends with you and be a good sunbae to a group with a fan of mine in it. Even if I didn’t, I shouldn’t have been such an idiot as to come on to a pretty rookie idol like a sex freak in a broken elevator!”

Wooyoung looked stunned by the words. For a moment, Jimin thought he was speechless. But it seemed he took after his idol some, because his mouth opened back up quickly.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Jimin blinked. Slowly. Then quickly.

“Is that all you got from tha-”

And with that, they were kissing  _ again. _

Time blurred some. Clothes were rumpled, hair was pulled out of its restraints. Two masks lay forgotten on the dirty elevator ground.

“Jimin-ssi, Wooyoung-ssi.” A voice crackled through the elevator button panel. Two young men scrambled, picking themselves up off the floor like there were fireworks going off beneath them.

“Yes sir?” Jimin half-shouted, one hand on the speak button and one scrambling for his mask.

A profuse apology was next to come through the elevator, and before long the door opened. Manager Sejin was on the other side, along with another man Jimin didn’t recognise.

“Finally.” Sejin said. “That’ll teach you to get your steps in next time.”

“Stop bullying me.” Jimin grumbled, but he couldn’t resist a glance towards the elevator’s other occupant. Wooyoung of Ateez had already picked up the water bottles, giving his manager a curt nod. Jimin felt proud. With the help of the masks, they only looked slightly disheveled.

“Oh, give me those.” The manager tutted, grabbing the plastic packaging. He used his other hand to pat Wooyoung down the side a little, strangely reminiscent of a mother checking on her child.

“I’m  _ fine. _ Stop it.” The words came out of him in a tone that Jimin was sure would be accompanied by a sulky look if he could see more than just Wooyoung’s eyes above the mask.

The BTS member indulged in a little private smile at the other two, the body language and words expressed reassuring him that Wooyoung was a luckier idol than most.

“How are we going for time?” Jimin asked his manager.

“If we get your makeup and hair done quick, we won’t be that far off schedule.” Sejin said. Jimin nodded, reminding himself what he was actually there for. He had a job to do, after all.

“I’ll, uh…” He trailed off, looking at Wooyoung. The other stared at him, eyes shining bright.

“I’ll be in touch.” Jimin finished. Wooyoung’s eyes crinkled at the sides, hands going up to play with his messy hair awkwardly.

“Yeah. That sounds good.” He said, before they were separated.

“Made a new friend, have you?” Sejin said. Jimin stared at him innocently.

“Yeah. We made friendship bracelets and told ghost stories.”

Sejin stared. Jimin giggled as they made their way to the stairwell. Wooyoung had disappeared with his manager down a hallway, but the boy’s image remained imprinted in his mind’s eye as he walked up a staircase.

“I don’t want to know.” Sejin said. “Not today. I’ve had enough. Taehyung had a long freak out, you’re going to want to hug him when we get inside. He’ll mope around all day if you don’t.”

“Got it, chief.” Jimin answered easily. And with that Park Jimin was kept busy for the rest of the day. But he barely could stop thinking about a sweet smile and soft eyes hidden behind strands of dark hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get the idea of Wooyoung/Jimin out of my head for months so here it is now in the form of a oneshot lol. I'm open to sequels.. maybe


End file.
